


itch

by freakedelic



Series: NonconWhumpKinktober 2020 [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Creampie, Daddy Kink, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Father/Daughter Incest, Manhandling, Noncontober 2020, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Poison Ivy Sex Pollen, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Wall Sex, but is it really a kink?, kinda implied that slade knows what's he's doing while rose doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26633914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakedelic/pseuds/freakedelic
Summary: “I don’t feel drugged,” she says confidently.“No?” he breathes, hot on her face. Sweat slicks her brow. She wants more. What that more is, she can’t tell, but if she leans into him and wraps her legs around his chest and breathes against his face . . . she thinks she knows how to get it.
Relationships: Rose Wilson/Slade Wilson
Series: NonconWhumpKinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917016
Comments: 17
Kudos: 45





	itch

**Author's Note:**

> written for noncontober day 3: sex pollen, whumptober day 3: mandhandled, kinktober day 3 orgasm denial

Rose is pinned against the wall and she knows that something is different. Slade’s breath is hot against her face. She herself feels dizzy, too-hot all over. They’d been fighting, her blood still pounding from it, but it doesn’t slow over time as it should. As it usually does. Instead, her breath catches, nose-to-nose with her father, no ground under her feet.

“Daddy?”

“Isley,” he breathes. Rose stares at him in hazy confusion until she makes the connection between the name and Poison Ivy. The villain who had been present. She should’ve made that connection sooner. What is wrong with her?

“What about her?” Rose tries. His nose touches hers. She swears she can feel his moustache grazing against her face. This is weird. Why doesn’t she mind? Why is Slade’s breath so hot, his heart so fast, when nearly nothing affects him like this?

“Drugged,” Slade breathes. His cheek moves against hers, scratchy and rough, his whole body holding her to the wall. It feels . . . obscene. But needed. So needed as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and holds on.

“I don’t feel drugged,” she says confidently.

“No?” he breathes, hot on her face. Sweat slicks her brow. She wants _more_. What that more is, she can’t tell, but if she leans into him and wraps her legs around his chest and breathes against _his_ face . . . she thinks she knows how to get it.

“You never think you are,” Slade murmurs. His face is against her neck, mouth open as spit gets on her jugular, teeth sharp as he speaks. “Not until it’s all over.”

“What’s all over?” She asks, heart pounding. She can smell Slade’s shampoo brand, letting out small whimpers as he nuzzles at her neck. There’s a small bite, teeth digging into her. She groans.

“What do you think?” he purrs.

He tastes like sharp mint toothpaste and sharper metal blood. His beard scratches her face as she wraps her legs around him. The clothes are too hot. The alley is just private enough. Rose _needs_ it. The thought is the only thing that fills her mind. Slade understands instinctually as he starts to peel her sweat-soaked shirt off of her body. She tugs on his lapels, pulling apart the suit as buttons pop.

“Hurry,” she begs. She can’t take it. Slade devours her, pushing her back into the wall so hard her head bangs against it. His hands are below her belt. Something that has to be his cock presses against her crotch. “Hurry,” Rose urges. Her whole body takes on a frantic need. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.”

He complies. He must need this as much as she does, not even bothering to undress as she feels the tip of his cock press between her thighs. She’s wet already. She ruts against him as he presses inwards, the head of it inside her as she _stretches_ to take it all.

Rose hadn’t known her father was so big.

The thought stuns her stupid for a single moment as something presses against the back of her mind. It’s lost in his first thrust. The momentum bruises her back. She moans, loud. There is no grace or tact to their fucking, just the snapping of hips and her back against the wall as she locks her legs behind him. Every thrust feels like heaven, scratching an itch that clings to every corner of her mind.

Rose’s nails dig into his forearms as she moans. “’M—‘m gonna—fucking—” She comes with a spasm that knocks her head against the wall a second time, digging in hard enough to draw blood. It feels like nothing she’s ever felt before. She wants _more_.

Slade is grunting in her ear as he keeps moving his hips. It hurts but it hurts _wonderfully_.

“’M love you,” Rose slurs into his ear. “Love you. Mmm. Daddy.”

He grunts, heavy and low. Rose knows what’s going to happen next, but something about it is _wrong_. She uses all her strength to push him back. Of course it’s not enough. It’s only at his whim that he pulls back.

Rose stares straight into his eye. Usually it is ice cold but now it burns hot. If she tries to stop him altogether he will stop and take what he wants. The thought jars her a little but it fades away in seconds.

“Say it. Say you love me.” She squirms. “You can’t come in me until you say it.”

His eye is hazy.

“I love you,” he murmurs in her ear as he fucks her. “I love you, Rose,” seconds before she feels his seed inside her.


End file.
